Monday, May 01, 2006

Revenge is Sweet

I have refrained from blogging about my wonderful sister's birthing experience because I am trying to respect her privacy. That and the fact that she is currently staying five miles down the road, and at any time she can come over and whoop my ass. I prefer my ass unwhooped so I have avoided this blog fodder. Yesterday I had an epiphany as I was staring at my nephew's hairy little ears. Sister-of-the-Whoop-Ass does not know that I have a blog. I can write any damn thing I want. There are no boundaries to observe, no rules of decorum that I can't break. I am free. (Duh, I knew I didn't share this blog with my family for a reason!)

So I am here to mark the event. Also, it was a very slow weekend. The kids behaved, the hubs wasn't home and I did a jigsaw puzzle all weekend. I never claimed to be a hip, cool mommy. Only a redneck.

A little back story here, if you please. My sis was 17 when I had my first kidlet, ten days shy of my 21st birthday. Sis was in the delivery room with me, and after watching my pain and witnessing my vajayjay stretch out to the size of a small country, she was no longer interested in trying sex out for herself. So the arrival of my daughter was effective birth control for the next three years. My parents were pleased with this. My sister, she still has nightmares.

The following years brought two boys into the family and two more opportunities for her to wax poetically about the state of my bush, how hairy my tree stumps were, and oh yeah, do you think you could trim your monkey toe-nails every once in a while? She was very supportive as I huffed and puffed my way to motherhood. She was a regular comedian, providing unending amusement for my hubs.

So for years I have been looking forward to the day she would walk in the door and announce to the world she, herself, has decided to breed. And I waited seven long years very patiently. Seven years of waiting for my revenge. Seven years of my sister commenting on my parenting style, criticizing my kids clothes, hair, behavior. Seven years of her forgetting my kids birthday parties because she was too busy having a life. Seven years of her wondering how I turned into a slobbering, unhip, radically pathetic soccer mom. And seven years of telling my sis how I wouldn't change a thing, except to have more.

So last fall, when she told me she was giving the world the gift of her offspring, I celebrated. Sure, it is joyous that we will have a new family member and all that crap, but it is much more joyous to know that motherhood is going to bite her on the ass. And I could hardly wait.

Well, God has to be a man, because he denied me the experience of commenting on her bush and her monkey toes as her placenta abrupted in the middle of the night and it was a race to save her and the baby. But in the end, I forgave God, because all ended well. And I knew, that while she didn't have hours to curse, moan and swear while trying to deliver a baby, she would have years ahead of her to understand what it means to be a mother. All with me watching over her shoulder, commenting on how she is morphing into a unhip, radically pathetic, soccer mom.

So my hats off to you, dear nephew. You haven't let your mom sleep more than three hours straight since you made your appearance in her life. You haven't let her forget that her bloody, cracked nipples are yours any time you please. In fact, you have done much more insidious things to her than even I, Redneck mommy, ever dared dream.

Rock on little nephew. I promise to always be at your birthday parties and always bring you a cool gift. One your mother would never buy for you.

11 Comments:

Anonymous motherhooduncensored said...

You are evil and I love that :)

10:45 AM  
Blogger B.E.C.K. said...

When you buy those birthday gifts, make sure they're noisy, with no volume control. ;^)

11:06 AM  
Blogger My float said...

Having experienced bloody, cracked nipples can I say that you really don't have to do any more to your sister! She is truly suffering enough.

Of course, if that's not enough revenge, then can I recommend a toy drum? That's what my mother keeps threatening to buy my son. I've promised that if she buys it, it goes straight home with her...as does the kid!

Congratulations on the safe arrival of your nephew, btw.

4:33 PM  
Blogger Mega Mom said...

Everything about that post was great. Isn't it amazing how we can throw rocks until we are in the boat!

5:57 PM  
Blogger Surfing Free said...

Oh, that is a pleasure that I will never have. My sister is very serious in her declarations to never have children. How wonderful it must be to have a nephew around ... what a terribly useless sister I have...

6:14 PM  
Blogger MrsFortune said...

Ohohoh, buy someting REALLY REALLY messy ... like non water soluble paints or permanent markers or tons of teeny, tiny stickers that are impossible to peel off of anything!

6:46 PM  
Blogger Abandoned in Pasadena said...

Buy him a set of drums and watch miss perfect parent dismantle.

6:53 PM  
Blogger OldOldLady Of The Hills said...

LOL, LOL, LOL...Wonderfully written, my dear....I laughed out loud when I got to vajayjay..! Never heard that word before and I know from reading you for a bit now you make up some GREAT words! This is one of them!
I'm glad your sister and nephew survived this ordeal...that had to be pretty scary......oh and the other image I loved with the "cracking bleeding nipples are his"....well said! Seriously, I love the way you write.

11:29 PM  
Blogger shpprgrl said...

Agreed, revenge is sweet. Hey, a tambourine and a harmonica make a nice gift for a three year old. Been there done that. lol!

7:51 AM  
Blogger T. said...

OOLOTH, you are really sweet, but I can't take credit for creating the vajayjay word. I heard it on telly and my friend uses it all the time. That is a post in itself, how my friend always talks about her you know what....

7:58 AM  
Blogger Her Bad Mother said...

My own sister could have written this, or a version of this. About me. And yes, I would have whooped her ass.

9:06 AM  

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